Half of Boston:02
by Hannibal the Animal
Summary: Life in the mirror world continues, but doesn't get any easier...
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:** _Chapter One_

**PAIRING:** _Walstrid_

**CHARACTERS:** _Astrid Farnsworth,_ _Walter Bishop, Peter Bishop_

**GENRE:** _Dark_

**RATING:** _M_

**SUMMARY:** _life in the mirror world_

**WORD COUNT:** _546_

**WARNINGS:** _Language_

**SPOILERS:** _1.18_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I missed 1.20 so I wrote this to occupy my time._

_**DISCLAIMER**_**:** _none_

* * *

_Astrid was sitting at her kitchen table, sipping on a late night cup of coffee as she added small notes to her paperwork on post-it notes that bore the FBI seal. She had Cole Porter playing softly on the record player and she tapped the cap of her pen on the tabletop to the beat of the music. _

_There was a sudden noise at the front door—knocking—and she stood up abruptly, her hand resting on the gun in her belt holster as her heart pounded. Who the hell could that possibly be? She silently made her way to the front door, gun ready; she could only hope it wasn't danger…_

_She peeked through the door's eyelet and to her surprise saw Peter and Walter standing outside her door. Astrid quickly unlocked the deadbolts, though she didn't put her gun away immediately. Peter's jaw was stiff and she could see he was grinding his teeth together, while Walter's eyes were red and there were dried tear tracks running down his face. He was biting his lower lip, his chin was wobbling, and his head was bowed as he sniffed._

_Astrid glanced to the younger Bishop in alarm. "Peter, what's—"_

_Peter shoved Walter towards her. "Take him."_

_Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"_

_Peter glared at the cowed man standing next to her. "I am not spending another minute with him. I can't. He's driving me insane."_

_Astrid looked at the scientist's face once more. "Peter, you both just need some time to get used to one another agai—"_

"_I am this close to putting a bullet through his head!" he said, his voice starting to rise. "I don't want him with me. He's yours."_

_With that, Peter turned around and left._

"_Peter!" she shouted after him._

"_May I come in? I would like to sit down," Walter whispered hoarsely, still looking at his feet._

"_Get in and stay put," Astrid instructed, standing aside for him to come in and quickly followed after the younger man. "Peter, wait!"_

_Astrid chased him down the hall and fell into stride with him. Peter was still fuming and gave her an angry look._

"_He's a monster! I can't stand to look at him!"_

_She tried to reason with him. "Peter, he did something bad a long time ago."_

_Peter stopped and spun around to look at her. "Bad? __**Bad**__?! He broke the tenth commandment of ethics! 'That which is dead past help shall remain as such.' He disgusts me! You're an Empiricist, aren't you?"_

_She looked away, feeling put in a very awkward position. "Peter…"_

_He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me what he did doesn't make your skin crawl."_

_It did. 'What he did was wrong, I agree. But what about the Hippocratic Oath we all take to become members of the church? That's supposed to be held above the other commandments."_

"_There is an abomination loose in the world because of him. There is some 'thing' that should be destroyed and he's worried about who's going to sing him fucking 'Row, Row, Row, Your Boat'." He let go of her and continued to walk down the hallway, reaching the staircase. "I'm done, Astrid! It's over. He's yours now."_

"_Peter!" she cried._


	2. Chapter 2

**TITLE:** _Chapter Two_

**PAIRING:** _Walstrid_

**CHARACTERS:** _Astrid Farnsworth,_ _Walter Bishop, Peter Bishop, Olivia Dunham, Phillip Broyles, Charlie Francis_

**GENRE:** _Dark_

**RATING:** _M_

**SUMMARY:** _life in the mirror world_

**WORD COUNT:** _1650_

**WARNINGS:** _None_

**SPOILERS:** _Season One and Two_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

_**DISCLAIMER**_**:** _none_

* * *

"Astrid."

Astrid's mind felt thick, full of clouds and smoke as she started to slip back into consciousness. Her eyelids felt heavy and breathing seemed foreign…she moved her fingers, still completely unsure where she was.

"Astrid."

The voice was familiar and she turned her head towards it, murmuring, "Peter?"

"She's awake!" She could hear footsteps approaching her to the right and Peter's voice returned. "Astrid, try to stay awake, okay?"

She opened her eyes and blinked, blinded momentary by the light over her face and she turned her head towards Olivia. Behind Olivia's hip she could see medical equipment, flasks, computers…and a cow? Astrid realised she was in Walter's lab, somewhere she didn't venture too often.

By now, Peter had tilted the lamp above her hospital bed out of her eyes and she groaned, "What happened?"

Olivia gave her a smile that looked more like a wince. "You fell down the stairs and hit your head pretty hard."

There was a slight throb on the left side of her head now that she thought about it and she drowsily looked at the equipment in the lab that Walter used—

She tried to sit up, and nearly threw up at the feeling. "Walter—!"

"He's okay," Peter said gently as he tried to get her to lie back down again. "When he came over, I came looking to bring him back to you. At first I thought he'd come looking for help, but then it became apparent that he hadn't known you were hurt and he wouldn't tell me what he was doing out on his own."

Olivia helped her prop up the pillows behind her and she furrowed her brow. "He walked all the way to your place?"

Peter nodded, his expression giving away how foolish he thought his father was. "I told him it was stupid and I figured you would be worried sick looking for him, so I decided to drive him back. When we reached the landing between the fifth and sixth floor, we found you. Then he told me that the rumble truck had come through your Ward and I figured you must have blacked out and fell."

"Would you like to see him?" Olivia asked gently.

As the blonde stepped aside, Astrid could see Walter hunched over his desk. His eyes met hers briefly before returning his attention to the papers he had in his hands. She felt a knot in her throat and she turned her attention the rise of the blankets that made up her toes at the end of the bed.

"He looks busy and I have paperwork I need to fill out," she said coolly. Before either of them had time to respond, she asked. "What am I doing in the lab?"

"Once you passed the contamination spectrum, we felt it would be better for you to be around people you knew…" Olivia watched Astrid as she sat up and started to get out of the hospital bed. "What are you doing?"

Her head ached, but she looked defiantly at Peter. "Am I okay?"

He didn't look comfortable answering. "Yes, you should rest—"

"I can rest at my desk. I need to get out of here." She paused as her mind cleared further and she looked suspiciously at Peter. "Wait, it takes five days for the tests to be finalised."

He glanced at Olivia, who nodded. "You were put into a coma and stored in the refrigerator unit until the tests came back."

Her skin prickled at the thought of being put in a near dead state. "So I've five days of work to finish."

As the headstrong member of the FSU, Peter and Olivia seemed to decide that arguing with her was simply not going to get them anywhere, so they helped her out of the lab to the elevator; Walter noticeably didn't come with them. Still in her hospital gown and clutching her clothes, which she could see had been cleaned and pressed, Astrid decided her first order of business was getting a shower. She felt dusty and wondered if she'd been sprinkled with cornstarch before being put in the refrigeration unit as was standard procedure.

In the FSU's locker room adjacent to the decontamination showers, Astrid sighed as she studied her reflection in the mirror above the sinks; there were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was sallow. She looked exhausted, like she needed a vitamin shot and she pulled her towel around her a little tighter as she touched her curls—her hair need to be washed for sure.

Charlie emerged from the showers with a towel wrapped around his waist, but paused when he saw her. "Shit, Astrid. You look like hell."

"Yeah," she muttered, picking up the three shower tokens she had taken out of her locker.

Standing next to her, he held her face in his hands and inspected the bruise on the side of her head. "You sure you should be out of bed…?"

"After I get clean, I'm going to work at my desk. I'll be sitting down," she assured.

Letting her go, he continued frowning. "I'm going to stay out here, okay? I don't feel comfortable leaving you in there alone."

"Fine," she sighed, not in the mood to argue that she was perfectly fine, she just needed to do things slowly.

"So you hit your head pretty hard," Charlie commented as he slipped a hand gently under her elbow as they walked into the decontamination showers.

She nodded. "Fell down a flight of stairs."

"During a rumble truck episode," he concluded.

"I was probably convulsing which made the bruises worse."

Charlie politely turned around as she let the towel fall to the ground and stepped into the shower. She put the three tokens in and was instantly greeted with hot, soothing water; the packet of sterilizing detergent quickly lathered in her hands and she proceeded to scrub at her hair and body with the harsh chemicals. It felt so nice to get clean.

When her thirteen and a half minutes were up and the water shut off, Charlie called out, "You need a towel?"

"Thanks," she said, sticking her hand out the shower curtain as he handed it to her. "Charlie, do you think you could contact the residency office and notify them that I will be spending the night in the fifth floor dormitory? I don't really feel like going home tonight."

"Sure.

As she dried off and he placed a call on his pocket computer, she wondered what it would be like to sleep in a bed alone for the first time in year.

* * *

Walter—she wasn't used to NOT thinking about him—Walter was sitting quietly with Peter at his son's desk, reading. Astrid wondered if he was proofreading his son's new preface for 'The Young Scholar's Guide to Quantum Physics'—she could tell from the way his brow was furrowed that he was upset and concentrating. Peter was studying pictures of viruses on his computer, pushing his glasses up his nose repeatedly as he did. Walter started to look up and she quickly averted her eyes back to her computer screen as she typed the last of her papers.

It seemed like no matter what she did, she wasn't going to make both Bishops happy at the same time. And really, she was too pissed to decide whether or not she had the right Bishop happy with her. She spared an angry glance towards the two of them; she hated them both—Peter for making her fight with Walter because he was trying to bring back his dead wife and Walter for being cruelly honest with her. Thinking about them was causing her eyes to water and Astrid didn't like crying, especially when it was them making her cry.

Paperwork finished for the day, she left her desk to go to Broyles' office; she had to talk to him about something important and thankfully he was alone at the moment—she couldn't imagine announcing this information in front of her coworkers. His office door was open and she quietly shut it behind her.

"Agent Broyles," she greeted, standing at attention in front of his desk.

"Agent Farnsworth," he acknowledged, giving her silent permission to speak.

"Sir, my media contract is not up yet. I have scheduled a trip to my hometown where I will be speaking to the local schools on behalf of the FBI," she said firmly, offering over the authorization code she'd received from the media board ten minutes previous.

He typed the code into his pocket computer and nodded. "Shall I expect you and Dr Bishop to be gone for a week, then?"

"I will be gone for a week. I leave in the morning," she said, careful to keep any emotion out of her voice.

He studied her for a moment, obviously dissecting her words and the specific way she'd used them, but he didn't comment, just asked,

"You've recovered enough?"

She nodded. "The medical bay said I was well enough to travel on my own."

He studied her a moment more before returning his attention back to the papers in his hand. "Have a safe trip, Agent Farnsworth."

She nodded her head again in appreciation and began to slowly back out of the office. "Thank you, sir."

As she walked back to her desk, looking at the different agents packing up for the night, she wondered what she was going to do. Was she going to tell everyone goodbye? No, she would just leave a quick note taped to her computer screen. She really didn't want to talk to any of them—certainly not Walter—she just wanted to leave.

Before she headed off to the dormitories, she pulled out her pocket computer and slipped it into her desktop drawer next to the ring Walter had bought her back in New York.


	3. Chapter 3

**TITLE:** _Chapter Three_

**PAIRING:** _Walstrid_

**CHARACTERS:** _Astrid Farnsworth,_ _Walter Bishop, Peter Bishop_

**GENRE:** _Dark_

**RATING:** _M_

**SUMMARY:** _life in the mirror world_

**WORD COUNT:** _2188_

**WARNINGS:** _None_

**SPOILERS:** _Season One and Season Two_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**DISCLAIMER:** _none_

* * *

_Astrid sat at the stoplight on an empty street; her ward had been all but evacuated weeks ago and there was a twinge of eerie abandonment as she watched one of the last families boarding up their house's windows before they went off to quarantine to be cleared to leave Boston. Personal belongings were not allowed to be taken in fear that contaminants could be spread outside of the city, so the best the citizens could do was prevent looters from gaining access. She was the only person remaining in her apartment building—in her neighborhood in fact!_

_A little girl played in the front yard with a stuffed rabbit and a tea set, her gas mask skewing her blonde hair. The child looked up for her imaginary tea party and gave Astrid a friendly wave. Astrid lifted her fingers from the steering wheel and returned the gesture, a wave of loneliness creeping over her._

_She'd had the option to evacuate Boston when the Outbreak was first identified a month ago and while her family had begged her to leave the dying city, Astrid had renewed her contract with the FBI to extend her stay. She couldn't back down from a challenge and when she wondered if that would one day be her downfall. It was her duty to work in the Fringe Science Unit and it didn't matter how ugly or dangerous the job was, she couldn't walk away._

_The stoplight turned green and Astrid continued on her drive to work. _

* * *

The trip to Astrid's hometown of Norristown, Pennsylvania was a seven and a half hour trip due to the slow drive through the Barren around the perimeter of Boston. She'd passed the ride listening to a radio station playing last month's American Idol competition—she was normally working while the big band orchestras battled it out to see who would reign supreme.

Norristown was a small, sleepy town of only five thousand people. She'd grown up there her whole life, settling there months after she was born in Norway. It was a lush, green New England town, such as difference from the sprawling metropolis she lived in now and while Boston had many parks and public victory gardens, it didn't compare to the beauty of the Pennsylvania countryside. Though she was still five miles away from the city limits, she could spot the large, translucent steel Climate Dome that glimmered in the summer sunlight as well as the inland lighthouse to the east of it, made of fading red sandstone, the two landmarks that resided on Phare d'Ouche, the magnificent compound she called home.

Phare d'Ouche was an important part of American history, something that Astrid was very proud of; it had been built by Astrid's great-great-uncle Joseph in 1896 where he'd invented the first Climate Dome, a large scale manmade ecosystem that was used to grow tropical produce in northern climates. Over one hundred years had passed and the Climate Dome over their family compound had been rebuild dozens of times, the last being in 1996 as part of the centennial celebration. Then in 1911 a large inland lighthouse had been built on the property where it served as a message relay centre during the first and second world war. Growing up, Astrid had spent hours up in the top with the message beacon, pretending to be a soldier sending messages to towers far away.

After driving through town, she reached the gates of the compound and pulled up to the heavy metal gate, rolling down her window as she approached so she could look at the video security panel that was linked to the security room.

The screen illuminated and a familiar face came into view. _"Hello and welcome to Phare d'Ouche, providers of the United States Government's quarantine citrus crop—Astrid?"_

She smiled. "I'm surprised it took you that long to realise it was me, Uncle Lindy."

The gate rolled open and he gestured happily. _"Come in, come in!"_

Astrid drove through the gates, butterflies in her stomach as she continued up a large gravel driveway. She'd missed home very much and the sight of familiar landscape made her heart pound; memories of playing hide-and-seek in the property's many bomb shelters, watching thousands of oranges being crated to be shipped overseas to soldiers fighting in Bangui, blizzards that forced them to play in the eternal summer of the Climate Dome.

'_Walter would have liked to visit here,'_ she thought, but quickly pushed any thought of him away—this was a happy place and the last thing she needed was to have it overshadowed by misery from a Bishop.

As she approached her childhood home, a large smile crossed her lips. Waiting on the large front porch was her family. To say Astrid had a large family was something of an understatement. She had four siblings, which was a rarity in any family and her mother's own four siblings all resided on the compound, Astrid being the only one who'd left. During the seventies the American birthrate had dropped significantly, prompting the government to lift the two child family limit set in so long as the parents' reproduction licenses were current. Ever the unconventional and eccentric people that they were, Astrid's mother and father had been happy to bring the American population up by five Farnsworths. Sometimes Astrid wondered if her parents were absolutely crazy—more than two children? Madness!

Not that she wasn't fond of her family. Having such a large network of supportive people was one thing Astrid attributed her successful career to.

* * *

Walter had been attempting to block out the sound of the news in the living room while he watched Peter cook their dinner, but the flashing of the screen was very distracting and he finally gave in to staring unhappily at the television.

"And today the FBI's newest unit of interrogators have graduated! The two thousand nine unit is based of six members, the largest graduating unit so far. We had the opportunity to speak to one of the unit, Special Agent Thaddeus American Blanchard." The journalist focused on a young man with rosy cheeks. "Tell us Thaddeus—what are you looking forward to the most as a professional interrogator?"

"Waterboarding!" he replied enthusiastically before returning to celebrating with his fellow agents.

"An unnecessary occupation," Walter huffed, putting the television on mute.

Peter continued chopping the carrots they were adding to their stew, but Walter didn't miss the rolled eyes. "If we didn't have professional interrogators, how would we get confessions?"

"Barbaric in this day and age," Walter pointed out.

His son glared at him. "This is only going to work if you don't talk."

Walter glared back. "I'm going out to the study to make a phone call."

This was his seventh night staying with his son and he had finally decided it was time to give in and call Astrid to beg for her to return. Carefully he selected each number and waited for the study's phone to connect him to her. To his surprise, she actually picked up and suddenly he was faced with uncomfortable silence. He wanted to tell her of the awful it was here with Peter, wanted to spend the quiet moments with her, sharing hushed whispers at the dreadful things he knew she'd like. But Walter was a man with pride so instead he merely sighed, not willing to say anything first and finally hung up the phone. He missed her. A bed without her was too big and very lonely.

Tonight Astrid was sharing a bed with her younger sister Sunniva, a talented psychologist, wearing one of Walter's old undershirt that had accidentally made its way into her pack; the lights were out and the bedroom windows were open, the cool night air smelling nothing like the smoke and decay of Boston. Reminiscent of when they were younger and shared a bed, her sister whispered loudly,

"Astrid, remember when we were little and there were sugar rations?"

Astrid rolled onto her side to look at her sister, unable to keep back the grin. "How could I forget? I remember it happened right before my birthday and instead of a cake, Mom made us biscuits and put orange marmalade on top. I was furious!"

"And we would hide in the bunkers eating all the cough drops we could find?"

Astrid also used to confess secrets to her sister when they were younger. "Do you ever miss being a child, Sunniva?"

"No." Sunniva turned to look at her. "Do you?"

"I miss what our country was like when we were children. I miss the feeling of hope I felt every time I heard the national anthem or said the pledge of allegiance."

"But you were a Patriot Agent—don't you feel that anymore?"

"Boston is such a horrible place. I love the work I am able to do, the people I get to work with, but there is no hope there. You can't tell anyone, Sukie!" Astrid pleaded, using her sister's childhood nickname.

"I promise." In the dark, Astrid could barely make out her sister's frown. "But the media has said that they are close to finding a cure for the Outbreak—"

"No," she sighed. "The Outbreak is too strong."

"Astrid, how involved are you in finding a cure? If you aren't able to help, perhaps that is why you are feeling hopeless…?" Sunniva speculated.

Outside of the FSU, no one knew what exactly she did.

"I oversee the bodies that are brought in," Astrid confessed, trying not to look at her sister's large eyes. "The way this sickness takes over the body…it's like it doesn't belong in this world at all."

"I had no idea you worked so closely. I figured that you merely helped with the paperwork or overheard talk. I never thought you were in the thick of it." Her sister held her hand. "Let me give you a session."

Astrid smirked. "Nice try, Sukie. You're just being nosey."

"True, but I think you need to talk." Her sister paused. "Is it something more than Boston?"

Astrid rolled over; some secrets she wasn't willing to confess. "Sukie, let me go to sleep."

* * *

_Astrid held the gun in her hands, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. The weight, the perfect balance, the careful inscription of "Agent Astrid Norway-America Farnsworth, Licensed to Kill" on the grip…her pupils dilated as she realised this was it, she was finally graduating from the academy. Receiving of the weapon she would use the rest of her career was the final part of the ceremony._

_Her class instructor's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Agent Farnsworth?"_

_This morning he had told her that he thought she had more potential than anyone he'd ever taught and as her eyes scanned the crowd watching her, her heart pounded. She was ready for this. This mantra she'd recited since she had first started at the academy, the one on the second page of her handbook, the one she thought of every time she touched a gun._

_As she put her official gun in the brand new side holster she'd been issued, she stood a little straighter and lifted her head a little higher, her voice clear, clean, and crisp. "I am ready to kill. I've wanted to be here all my life. I can't wait to see a dead body. I can't wait to make a dead body. I can't wait to be a dead body. I will pull this trigger for my country."_

_Her class instructor beamed and pointed her over to the waiting tattooist. "Very good."_

_Astrid proudly marched across the stage as the crowd applauded, rolling up her left sleeve to receive the barcode tattoo that would mark her forever as one of the FBI's own. She couldn't wait to make a dead body._

* * *

The creaking of floorboards awoke Astrid early the next morning. She rolled over sleepily to see her sister walking into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel and drying her hair.

"Didn't mean to wake you up," Sukie apologised as she blotted water out of her thick curls.

Astrid gave a tired smile, fighting back a yawn as she started to get out of bed. "It's okay. I should probably get up anyway."

The moment she planted her bare feet on the cool floor, her sister asked, "Astrid, who's Walter?"

Astrid froze, thankful that she was facing away from Sukie so that the horrified expression she had couldn't be seen. It took her only seconds to compose herself and she choked out a,

"What?"

"This morning when I got back from the shower I heard you say the name Walter in your sleep," Sukie said casually and Astrid exhaled softly.

"Oh, I must have been dreaming nonsense."

"Most likely."

Astrid turned to look at her sister. "What did I say?"

"Nothing. Just _'Walter'_," Sukie replied, giving her a friendly smile as she opened her closet.

Astrid nodded and turned her attention back out the window, trying not to think about how odd it was to wake up without him.


	4. Chapter 4

**TITLE:** _Chapter Four_

**PAIRING:** _Walstrid_

**CHARACTERS:** _Astrid Farnsworth,_ _Walter Bishop, Peter Bishop, Phillip Broyles, Olivia Dunham, Charlie Francis_

**GENRE:** _Dark_

**RATING:** _M_

**SUMMARY:** _life in the mirror world_

**WORD COUNT:** _4735_

**WARNINGS:**

**SPOILERS:** _Season One and Season Two_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**DISCLAIMER:** _none_

* * *

Astrid was sitting on the front steps of Norristown Elementary School, eating lunch with her two nieces when her cell phone rang. The moment she realised who was calling, her stomach tightened.

"Hello, sir."

"Agent Farnsworth, I trust you're having a good trip?" Broyles greeted her.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm calling to notify you that the FSU is needed in Florida."

She frowned. "What's happened?"

"You will be debriefed when you arrive in Jacksonville. I've arranged for your ticket on the hyperrail to Florida."

She glanced at her two nieces who were watching her with great curiosity—she didn't want to tell them she'd have to cut her trip short. "Of course. When do I need to be at the station?"

"At five. That should give you time to wrap up any affairs you might be taking care of."

She nodded, not feeling very hungry anymore. "Yes, sir."

Astrid shut her phone and tried to keep a happy face as she explained to the two girls that she wouldn't be staying the rest of the week with them and that no, she didn't know when she'd be coming to see them next. They were heartbroken of course, but as good little patriots they understood that her job was more important than their personal happiness. She still had two more classes to talk to before the school day ended, after which she went back home to pack all of her things back into the armoured SUV and say goodbyes to her tearful family.

The Norristown train station was fairly developed for the small population residing, but that was due to her family's orange orchard shipping their products nationwide. As she drove up to the gateway of the station, she produced her ID to the station master who typed her name into his computer and quickly printed out her ticket.

"Agent Farnsworth, you are booked on a trip to Jacksonville on the vehicle car." He pointed her to the northern side of the station. "If you bring your vehicle to the D platform you will be directed aboard."

She nodded and took her ticket. "Thank you."

Astrid drove up the ramp and brought the vehicle to a stop against the heavy rail; two attendants quickly harnessed the SUV to the hyperrail platform and the large train shifted forward enough for the next vehicle to drive up the ramp next to her. An identifying sticker was placed on her windshield stating her destination and Astrid settled back into the driver's seat, watching attendants attach a power source cord under the hood of the car so she could turn on the air-conditioning and listen to the radio without draining the car battery. Large transparent steel walls were put up around the long hyperrail platform and they were sealed in, indicating that their journey was about to start.

A trip on the hyperrail from Pennsylvania to Florida would take at least two hours, perhaps a bit longer due to stops made at other stations and while she would have normally been ecstatic to watch the scenery pass by at high speed, she was dreading the fact that she would be facing not just the unknown case Broyles had forshadowed, but the Bishops.

* * *

A day off of work was torture to Walter—not only was he spending no time with his beloved lab at the FBI field office, but it meant that he was cooped up in a house with Peter who still hated him very much. Walter had spent the entire morning sweeping and cleaning the front porch, the only area his son claimed he wouldn't be able to cause trouble in; secretly Walter wanted to wash windows and picture frames because he always found cleaning glass very relaxing but Peter had told him he was far too clumsy and there was no way "I'll follow you around the house to make sure you don't break anything," so Walter didn't get a chance to study photographs until lunch time when Peter made peanut butter and jam sandwiches for lunch.

As Peter spooned strawberry jam onto the bread, Walter thumbed through a stack of mail on the kitchen counter. Not that he was expecting a letter. The regular post had stopped being delivered months ago and from the general shape and postmark date, he suspected they were unopened condolences in regards to his late wife.

"Stop touching those," Peter muttered before Walter could open one to confirm his suspicions.

Walter huffed, but took this as an opportunity to look at some of the photo frames that Peter had removed mourning veils from and laid out on the dining room table to clean. In each of the photos was a blonde woman, sometimes on her own, other times standing with his son. They looked happy and he paused, feeling a knot form in his throat as he looked at what appeared to be their marital ceremony within the Great Scientific Hall in London; she was beaming as Peter slipped a gold band around her middle finger, her white lab coat pristinely starched. Walter had lost and missed many things when he was locked away in St. Claire's, but one thing he greatly regretted not being witness to was his son's marriage.

"She is very beautiful," he commented aloud.

"Don't touch that. You're getting smudges on the glass," Peter warned in a low tone.

Walter moved his hands away from the glass, seeing a few fingerprints he'd left behind, and continued talking. "I see she's wearing a signet ring for Galileo University. I didn't realise you'd married such a smart woman. Did she work in string theory? Or some other religious study perhaps? The signet rings are given only to those who graduate with two PhDs. Is that what attracted you to her? I bet you love clever women as much as I do. Did she have the second PhD when you married—"

Walter jumped slightly at the sound of the jam spoon being dropped on the kitchen counter and turned to see his son glaring daggers at him. "Don't talk about her. _You_," his son hissed, pointing his finger aggressively at him. "You have no fucking right to talk about her! EVER. Tess…Tess was too good for you to ever look at her. You shouldn't even think about her!"

To Walter's absolute surprise Peter began to cry—angry, pained sobbing—and he stormed out of the kitchen. Horrified at his son's reaction, he hurried after him, calling out,

"Peter?"

"Get away from me!" Peter shouted before locking himself in his study.

Walter could hear his son talking to himself, muttering through sobs and he pressed his ear against the door in an attempt to distinguish the words.

"Peter? Do you need a handkerchief? I have a spare one…" he offered but received no answer.

He sat down on the hardwood floor and leaned back into the doorframe. What was the song he used to sing Peter as a child to comfort him? He couldn't remember and it frustrated him to no end. How could he prove to his son that he was truly the father he said he was if he couldn't do something as simple as get his boy to stop crying?

The phone rang and Walter pressed his ear to the door once more, trying to make out the words that Peter spoke, but it was too brief a conversation for him to catch anything that might give a clue as to what was being said.

The door was flung open and Peter nearly tripped over him as he tried to get out of the study. "Get your fucking stuff, we're headed to Florida."

Walter stumbled to his feet, trying to follow his son. "Florida?"

"That's what I said," Peter snapped.

"An overnight trip?" Walter asked excitedly.

"Broyles didn't say.

* * *

When Astrid reached the location in Jacksonville that Broyles had given her directions to, she was shocked to say the least. The Jacksonville Military Base was eerie in the dusky light, the strange marsh trees of Florida seeming gnarled and alien, the pavement of the abandoned road cracked and overgrown with weeds. In a particularly empty stretch there was a house to her right that two other FBI vehicles were already parked at the area illuminated with portable lights hooked up to a generator.

As Astrid parked the SUV, grabbing her crime scene kit, Agent Broyles approached her vehicle.

"Agent Farnsworth, a moment please," he said as she stepped out.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm hoping that you were able to rest during your trip? We'll be working through the night," he pointed out and she nodded.

"Of course."

"And you will be able to keep Dr Bishop focused?"

At this she stiffened. "He is Peter's responsibility, sir."

He studied her out of the corner of his eye for a moment and she wondered if she'd spoken out of turn, but he merely said, "The crime scene won't wait."

"Thank you, sir."

Broyles waited by the vehicle as Olivia waved Astrid over with a large smile on her face. "There you are! I've missed you!"

Astrid laughed and happily shook Olivia's hand as they walked briskly to lit-up crime scene. "What's the situation?"

"This military base used to house top secret weapons until it was shut down due to aggravated weather circumstances," she explained as Charlie lifted up the crime scene tape for them to duck under. "The Bishops used to live here right before it was shut down."

Astrid looked at Olivia in surprise. "What?"

"Early this morning motion detectors in their former house were set off and when security investigated came to investigate…well, you'll see when we get inside."

Astrid followed Olivia and Charlie into the run down house where the two Bishop men waited and she stopped dead in her tracks.

"**Holy shit."**

"Indeed," Charlie agreed.

The interior of the house looked as though it had been involved in a small explosion. The walls were streaked black and the few remaining pieces of furniture had been knocked over, large scratch mark on the wood floor indicating they'd been dragged at least part of the way before they fell.

"What on earth happened here? Was there a fire?" she asked.

"No," Peter said and streaked his finger through the black on the wall. "This is carbon residue."

"Someone teleported here!" Astrid gasped.

Charlie nodded somberly. "We believe so."

"Who would want to teleport into your old house?"

Olivia turned to the elder Bishop hopefully. "I was hoping Walter could tell us that."

Walter didn't seem too interested and shrugged his shoulders as he looked around the mostly empty room. "I don't know. So many possibilities."

"Well that was a lot of help, Walter. Where would we be without you?" Peter sneered. "Go stay in the car unless you're going to be of use."

Walter scowled at his son and turned around, haughtily declaring, "I have notes to make anyway."

"Where's our usual help? The Blue Agents assigned to us," Astrid asked as the group was reduced to four.

Olivia shook her head. "They didn't have the clearance for this. We're the only ones working tonight."

Astrid huffed slightly and put her hands on her hips. "Well, since there are no bodies, I have no jurisdiction over the scene. And there haven't been any Observer sightings, so Charlie has no jurisdiction."

"I call jurisdiction then," Olivia said as she pulled a package of sterilized medical gloves out of her pocket and proceeded to put them on. "Charlie, you and I are going to finish documenting the house's layout on the electrographs. Peter and Astrid, you two will start collecting evidence and taking photographs."

"Wonderful," Peter said sourly as he was handed the crime scene camera.

Astrid picked up the field kit that had already been brought into the room. "On it."

Olivia nodded. "C'mon Charlie. Let's see what surprises are in store for us tonight."

The two pairs separated, Charlie and Olivia heading off towards what appeared to be bedrooms and Astrid and Peter moved into a side room that appeared to have once been a study.

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Peter asked in a strained manner, "How's your vacation been?"

"Refreshing. It's nice to have my own space and not have someone touching all my things or talking down to me," she said, not bothering to mask the resentful tone in her voice.

"So what's the secret to watching Walter? I truly believe he aims to drive me insane."

"Turn on the television and give him food. That's all he cares about—his cartoons and his chips," she said bitterly as she scraped up the material and placed it in specimen bag. "You're in my light."

He took a step back and she stood up, letting him study the contents.

"What is this?"

"You're the doctor, not me," she said brusquely.

"I don't specialize in organic matter," he replied in a curt tone. "It looks like mango?"

She nodded as she sealed the bag. "It smells funny. Like rot."

He pointed over to the centre of the room. "There's more over here."

"Don't move!" she ordered and quickly crouched down to collect thin white flecks on the floor by his feet. "I think these are skin flakes."

Caught in mid stride he looked down at her, pointing his flashlight directly in her face. "Please hurry, I don't think I'll be able to keep my balance much longer."

Samples collected, she waved him on and offered up the bag to him. "What do you think?"

"_You_ want to know what _I_ think?" he said snidely.

"Could you just do your job and not be a complete fuck? I'm trying to be professional," she snapped.

He continued taking pictures of the room, the flash illuminating the darkness. "Give it a rest, Astrid. You're don't want to be here with me any more than I want to be here with you."

"Because you'd rather be back in Boston, breaking the tenth commandment of ethics," she said snidely.

"You can't prove anything," he said and she didn't miss to triumphant edge when he spoke.

A voice interrupted anything she might have said in return. "Is everything all right in here?"

Peter and Astrid both nodded as Broyles joined them. "Of course, sir."

"We found some unusual organic matter, possibly human," Peter said, holding out the two bags to Broyles.

The senior agent's brow furrowed as he looked at the contents. "We'll have to investigate it back at the lab. I don't want to stay here too long. Florida isn't somewhere we should be right now."

Olivia and Charlie joined them in the room. "We've completed documenting the layout and Charlie's uploading it to the servers right now." The blonde pointed out the window. "What's that building over there?"

"The base's daycare centre."

"We should investigate that. Whoever was in here could have gone over there," Charlie pointed out and Broyles nodded.

"I will finish photographing and then bring a vehicle over," he said and Peter handed the camera over to him.

It was obvious that Broyles was trying to rush them along, but for what reason Astrid couldn't figure out. Just the fact that they were all outside of Boston seemed to put him on edge.

Peter pounded a fist on the window of the car Walter was sitting in, causing him to jump.

"Walter! C'mon!"

Walter stumbled out of the car, trailing after them as they walked down the broken road with their flashlights and crime scene kits. "Where are we going?"

"To the daycare centre."

Walter blanched. "Why?"

"Because whomever teleported here might have gone over there," Olivia explained.

"Oh."

As they approached the play yard of the daycare, Olivia paused, tilting her head and biting the inside of her cheek. "I've been here before."

Charlie raised a brow. "Here? You were never in the military."

They entered the dark building and shined their lights on the old posters still taped to the wall, stepping over strewn toys and boxes of cotton balls. Olivia stepped into a room marked as a "Learning Room" and as they followed her, Astrid asked, "Olivia? What is it?"

"This place is so familiar. But it doesn't look right."

"How is it familiar, Agent Dunham?" Walter questioned, taking her hands in his.

She looked deep in thought as she scanned the room. "I swear I've been here before. But there was a mural on the wall…toys…"

Suddenly Peter chimed in, his voice hesitant as he pointed a bare space near the doorway. "And there was a growth chart here."

"Yes!" Olivia agreed fervently.

Peter looked at his father with narrowed eyes. "Walter, did I ever come here when I was a child?"

Before the older Bishop could say anything, Olivia muttered, "What on earth…?"

"What is it?" Astrid asked as they watched her break away from the group to move over to an assortment of toys by the window.

Olivia lifted a doll and began to study it, her brow furrowed. "For a moment…for a moment it looked blue. As though it were glimmering blue light."

Peter's eyes widened before he looked away from them. "How funny. For a moment, everything here was glimmering gold."

Astrid could see Walter looked nervous. "Perhaps you should have the medic squad check your vitals."

Olivia set the doll back down. "It's late. I am probably tired. Perhaps the moonlight on the dust was what caused it to look the way it did."

Astrid nodded. "Both of you go get some rest—I can take over."

The blonde agent nodded. "I'll just shut my eyes for a few minutes. I saw a few cots down the hall."

Walter offered out his arm. "I shall go with you."

As the two left the room, Astrid shifted uncomfortably and wandered back into the hallway.

"I think we should keep scouting things out." Charlie pointed to their right. "I'll take that hallway. Peter, you can go down the northern corridor and Astrid, you can take the south corridor. We'll meet back here in thirty minutes."

As she started walking down the hallway that had a multitude of abandoned medical equipment, she could hear Peter following her. "Astrid?"

"What?" she asked irritated as she stepped over a broken light fixture that had fallen to the floor.

"I want to come with you."

She stopped, listening to his boots crunching on broken florescent bulbs. "No. I'll we ever do it fight and I don't have the patience for that right now."

"It's not safe for you to go on your own. Charlie could take someone on, but you couldn't."

"Are you _serious_? I can take care of myself, Peter! Fuck off," she retorted and started to walk down the hallway again.

"It's not going to kill you to let me come with you," he argued as he reached her side.

"What is this really about? Need to find something to complain about? Want to find faults in how I work?" she sneered.

"Astrid, just shut up and let me help you," he sighed exhaustedly.

She looked into a room to their left, shining her flashlight over the empty tile. "How could you help me?"

"If Tess were here, she could help find a Cure for Boston," he said lowly.

Astrid stopped in her tracks and looked at him in surprise. "You're trying to get me on your side. It's not going to work."

"It wouldn't hurt to have another mind working on solving the problem."

"If the government thought she would be an asset, they would have reanimated her."

"They don't know her," he insisted.

"Peter, she may have worked in biochemistry, but there are thousands of other King's Doctors and High King's Doctors that are just as qualified," she said tiredly as she continued walking again.

"But she and I are a team. Our minds together are better than any other scientist alive."

Astrid gave a dry laugh. "Do you think that reasoning with me in a civil tone is going to work, Peter? My answer is always going to be no. It's not just illegal, but ethically wrong. That which is dead should remain such. If we brought people back to life every time a family member requested it, no one would ever have to deal with death."

"Aren't there bigger things to consider? Tess shouldn't have died, Astrid. If you had the opportunity to bring someone back who should have lived, wouldn't you? Isn't that what your oath meant when you took it? That you would prevent unnecessary death? Tess' death wasn't necessary."

"Don't twist the oath I swore to uphold for your own use," she warned softly as she peered into a room with her flashlight.

"She shouldn't have died. I know it. I can feel it. Please help me get her back."

"You want me to join you instead of fight you." She crossed her arms and presented him with a question she doubted he could answer. "What about the person your father reanimated? You yourself said that what Walter did was abominable."

"This isn't about Walter," Peter insisted.

"Yes it is, Peter. It's about hypocrisy. What if your father felt that the person he brought back wasn't supposed to die?"

"If Walter really thought that, then he would have told the government who it was. The mere fact that he wasn't willing to give up the name proves that he knew that he'd brought that person back for selfish reasons," he said passionately.

She shook her head at the justification. "How naive of you. You think you see the big picture, but you only see the small one."

"If you knew the whole story, you might not feel that way. You might be on my side," he said as he adjusted his glasses.

Astrid sighed. "Peter, if _you_ knew the whole damn story, you'd see that you're wrong."

Charlie's voice in the distance brought a quick end to the conversation. "Hey! I found something! I need help here!"

Astrid and Peter quickly ran down the corridor and out into the main hallway where Charlie waited, leading them in a sprint to another hallway and room where a man—or what was left of him lie.

"What happened?" Astrid asked, covering her mouth and nose to block out the horrible smell.

"Time travel," Peter explained grimly.

"Let's get him wrapped up and we'll take him back to Boston."

"I'm going to go get Olivia and Walter. Astrid, there's a body bag in the field kit," Peter said before he ran out of the room.

"Flip the body bag inside out and fold it back around him—that way we don't touch him and we won't smear him everywhere," Charlie instructed.

"Ugh he smells terrible!"

"Something festering," Charlie gagged.

"Let's get him sealed up and take this outside," Astrid said as they finally got the body in the bag and began to carry him out of the room and down the hall.

"Not very heavy," she commented.

"Not very much left," he pointed out as Walter, Olivia, and Peter joined them.

"Peter said you found a body!" Olivia said, her eyes wide as she began to help them carry the bag outside.

"Looks like the victim of time travel," Charlie said as Peter opened the doors for them.

"We should take him back to Boston while he's fresh," Walter commented enthusiastically.

Broyles watched them carry the body to the back of the SUV brought over. "I agree with Dr Bishop. We've already spent too much time away from Boston."

"There could be other bodies," Astrid started to protest but Broyles raised a hand to silence her.

"We'll send a secondary crew down to collect anything else. I'll stay to monitor them and the five of you will take the hyperrail back to New York tonight."

"I really don't think—" Walter started until he saw the look that the other three gave him and then grumbled, "Fine."

"Agent Farnsworth, why don't you get Peter?" Broyles instructed.

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

Astrid returned the learning room to collect Peter; he was facing away from her, muttering aloud.

"You _know_ that's not what I meant. I just think that she's smart enough to figure this out. Then where would we be? If—"

Astrid stepped into the room and asked loudly, "Who are you talking to?"

Peter spun around at her presence. "Myself."

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but said nothing more than what she'd originally come for. "Broyles said we should get going."

"Of course." He didn't move and when the pause between them became obvious, he insisted once more, "I was talking to _myself_."

* * *

The next day they were well rested and back in Boston, standing around an autopsy table in Walter's laboratory; the man Charlie had found had been unwrapped and spread out on the cold metal surface for everyone to study. Astrid couldn't help but notice that Walter seemed to find a special glee in studying the cadaver and she tried not to wonder if it was something she would have enjoyed helping him with had she had more time to spend in the lab with him.

Peter, Olivia, Charlie, and Broyles were also in attendance, all dressed in the long sleeved blue smocks as well as facial shields to observe the autopsy of the man that they had found.

"He looks as though he's been damaged by the teleportation process." Walter took a metal probe and used it to lightly press into the thigh tissue which immediately broke apart. "As you can see his body has begun to fall apart, the flesh collapsing in on itself in a somewhat jellified manner as evidenced by this arm. Along with the jellification of the human meat, you can see his orifices sealed, including his mouth and, uh…"

"His orifices sealed, including his mouth and anus," Peter filled in.

At this, everyone flinched and Walter looked horrified. "Peter! Watch your mouth!"

The younger Bishop rolled his eyes. "Walter, it's a scientific term."

"It's _vulgar_."

"Yes, because it makes so much sense for a scientist to be afraid of talking about the human body." He took his face shield off and said it again. "**Anus**."

The entirety of the room flinched and winced once more as Peter stormed out of the lab.

"That boy has no damn manners," Walter grumbled. "I'd like to apologise for my son. He forgets the laws sometimes."

She saw his eyes dart over to her and as she turned her own attention back to the body before coolly commenting, "I don't think anyone will see the need to write him up. His words had a medical context."

The autopsy was concluded not long after that and Astrid happily left laboratory, glad to return to her desk where there was paperwork to lose herself in. Hours passed by until it was time to go home and she was relieved to think she'd be able to escape to watching tv before going to sleep. However, all thoughts of this were tossed away when Broyles approached her desk and handed her a red file clearly labeled "Utmost Importance. Eyes Only" with her name, Olivia's and the two Bishop's written neatly underneath.

She opened the file, her eyes following Broyles for a moment as he returned to his office, then studied the contents. The papers inside immediately made her frown—first Florida and now Broyles was sending them off on a mission to New York?

Peter began to pack up for the day and Walter enthusiastically followed along.

"I was thinking we might have chicken and rice for dinner tonight? If my memories serves me, you liked that as a boy!"

Peter grabbed his briefcase and began to walk towards the office door. "Walter, what are you doing? Astrid's back."

"Yes and the FBI says you are supposed to look after me, not her. And all my things are in your guest room," Walter insisted angrily.

The two Bishops left the office still bickering and Olivia made a noise of discomfort causing Astrid turned to look at her. "What's wrong?"

Olivia looked embarrassed. "Ever since you were hurt, things haven't been the same. Our group dynamics is entirely off."

Astrid offered over the file that had been left on her desk. "Perhaps this will help."


End file.
